*You can sit in front and make madam sit in your lap,' the driver pointed Ananya to me. Ananya's mother gave the driver a glare strong enough to silence him for the rest of the day.

*Mom, can you take an auto?' Ananya requested her mother.

*Why, we have also paid for this,' she said. *Something something illa illa!'

*Seri, seri, Amma,' Ananya said.

We finally arrived at an arrangement. Ananya's dad sat in front with Ananya in his lap. Ananya's mother sat behind with her son in her lap. My mother had *

already taken a window seat behind the driver. I squished myself between the two ladies in the middle.

The Sabarmati Ashram is eight kilometers away from campus. The twenty- minute drive felt like an hour due to the silence. Ananya tried to make conversation with her parents. They pretended not to hear her as they kept their heads out of the windows. My mother took out a packet of Nice biscuits and started eating them without offering them to anyone. She took one biscuit and put it in my mouth, to assert maternal rights on me. Of course, I couldn't refuse.

*Why is everyone so silent,' Ananya said to me as we went to the ticket counter at the ashram.

*My mother made a silly comment at the convocation,' I said, hoping Ananya won't seek details.

*What did she say?' Ananya asked as she fished for the required amount of money for six tickets.

*It's not important. But your parents left after that.'

*What exactly did she say?' Ananya persisted.

*Nothing, something about South Indian women being loose or something. No big deal.'

*What?' Ananya looked at me, shocked.

*I didn't say it. She did. Silly comment, ignore it.'

*I don't know what to say,' Ananya said.

*Nothing. Let's get everyone talking again,' I said as we walked to the main entrance.

We came inside the ashram. Gandhi lived here from 1915 to 1930. The famous Salt March started form this ashram. Ananya appointed a guide, for no other *

reason than to keep everyone walking together. We passed the exhibits a various pictures, paintings, letters and articles of Gandhi.

*And when Mr. Gandhi left in 1930 for the Dandi March, he vowed never to return to the ashram until India won its independence,' the guide said in a practiced voice. *And he didn't after that day.'

*Did he come back after India became free?' Ananya's mother wanted to know.

*Alas,' the guide sighed, *he couldn't. He was shot dead within six months of independence.'

My mother, not to be left behind in asking of questions, turned to the guide.

*Why is it called Dandi March? Because he carried a stick?'

The guide laughed. Like all his mannerisms, his laugh was dramatic, too. *How little we know about the greatest man in India. No madam, Dandi is the name of a place, five hundred kilometers away from here.'

The guide took us to an exhibit of the map and pointed to the coastal town.

Ananya's mother turned to her father and spoke in Tamil. *Something something illa knowledge Punjabi people something.'

*Seri, seri,' Ananya's father said in a cursory manner, engrossed in the map.

Ananya's mother continued. *Intellectually, culturally zero. Something something crass uneducated something.'

I don't know if Ananya's mother realised her use of the few English words, or maybe she planted them intentionally. She had made her comeback. My mother heard her and looked at me. The guide looked worried as his tip was in danger.

*So, you see, Gandhiji strongly believed that all Indians are one. Anyway, let us now see Gandhiji's personal belongings. This way, please.' The guide said, breaking the Antarctic glances between the two mothers.

We sat down for lunch under a tree in the ashram complex, looking like we were on death row. Everyone ate in silence as Ananya dropped the news. *We like each other.'

Everyone looked at each other in confusion. Most people did not like each other in this group.

*Krish and I, we like each other,' Ananya smiled.

*I told you. I smelled something fishy......' My mother tore her chapatti.

*There's nothing fishy. There's nothing to be worried about. We just wanted to share our happiness. We are just two people in love,' Ananya said as her mother interrupted her.

*Shut up, Ananya!' Ananya's mother glared at her. I wondered if she would slap her. And I wondered if Ananya would offer her second cheek considering we were in Gandhi's ashram.

*This is what I meant when I said about South Indian girls. There are so many cases in Delhi only,' my mother said, itching to slam Ananya's mom again.

*Mom, chill,' I said.

*What have I said? Did I say anything?' my mother asked.

*Get up,' Ananya's mother said to her husband. Like a TV responding to a remote, he stood. Ananya's brother followed. *We will take an auto back,'

Ananya's mother said.

Ananya sat under the tree, perplexed.

*Now you will stay with them?' Ananya's mother asked.

*Mom, please!' Ananya sounded close to tears.

Ananya's mother tugged at Ananya and pulled her away. The guide noticed them leave and looked puzzled. I paid him off and came back to my mother. She finished the last few spoons of Topaz's paneer tikka masala under the tree.

*They are gone,' I said.

*Good. There'll be more space in the car,' she said.

ACT 2:.

Delhi.

12.

*What are you reading with such concentration?' my mother asked as she chopped bhindi on the dining table.

*It's the Citibank new employee form. I have to fill fifty pages. They want to know everything, like where was your mother born.'

*On the way from Lahore to Delhi. Your grandmother delivered me in a makeshift tent near Punjabi Bagh.'

*I'll write Delhi,' I said.

I had come home for the two-month break before joining Citibank. Even in April, Delhi temperature had already crossed forty degree centigrade. There wasn't much to do, apart from calling Ananya once a day or waiting for her call. I sat with my mother as she prepared lunch. My father wasn't home, nobody really sure or caring about where he was.

*Is this the form where you fill your location preference?' my mother asked.

I looked at her hands, a little more wrinkled then before I left to join college.

She cut the top and tail of a bhindi and slit it in the middle.

*Yes,' I said.

*You chose Delhi, right?'

I kept quiet.

*What?'

*Yes I will,' I said.

The phone rang. I rushed to pick it up. It was Sunday and cheaper STD rates meant Ananya would call at noon.

*Hi, my honeybunch,' Ananya said.

*Obviously, your mother is not around,' I said. I spoke in a low volume as my own mother kept her eyes on the bhindi but ears on me.

*Of course not. She's gone to buy stuff for Varsha Porupupuja tomorrow.'

*Varsha what?'

*Varsha Porupu, Tamil new year. Don't you guys know?'

*Uh, yes of course, Happy New Year,' I said.

*And have you sent in your Citibank form yet?'

*No, have to fill a few final items,' I said.

*You've given Chennai as your top location choice?'

*I will....wait.'

I picked up the phone and went as far from my mother as the curly landline wire allowed me. *My mother expects me to put Delhi,' I whispered.

*And what do you want? HLL has placed me in Chennai. I told you weeks ago.

How are we going to make this work?'

*We will. But if I come to Chennai, she'll know it is for you.'

*Fine, then tell her that.'

*How?'

*I don't know. They didn't give me a choice, else I would have come to Delhi. I miss you sweets, a lot. Please, baby, come soon.'

*I'm someone else's baby too, quite literally. And she is watching me, so I better hang up.'

*Please say "I love you".'

*I do.'

*No, say it nicely.'

*Ananya!'

*Just once. The three words together.'

I looked at my mother. She picked up the last bunch of bhindis and wiped them with a wet cloth. Her shiny knife, symbolic of her current position in my love story, gleamed in the afternoon light.

*Movies I love. You should see them, too.'

*Aww, that's not fair,' Ananya mock-cried at the other end.

*Bye,' I said.

*OK, love you. Bye,' she ended the call.